A Question of Manhood (30 page)

Read A Question of Manhood Online

Authors: Robin Reardon

BOOK: A Question of Manhood
7.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“He's absolutely gorgeous! Oh, but JJ, he needs so much help. You know what these dogs are like, even when they've been treated well. They're huge, massive, and solid muscle. This one weighs probably a hundred pounds or more, and he's big even for a Rottweiler. And you should see the scars on him! My heart nearly broke.”

JJ turned to Mr. Carter at this point. “You don't have him yet, do you?”

“No. We told the shelter we needed to consult with someone first.” He chuckled. “That would be you.”

“Because, you know,” JJ went on, looking at Mrs. Carter again, “taking on a dog like this is going to be a lot tougher than working with Gypsy. You've just pointed out yourself how powerful he is. You won't be able to walk him. Not right away, anyway. Did he take to you, do you think?”

Mr. Carter shook his head. “Not exactly. I don't think he's likely to take to anyone in the immediate future. He's been too mistreated.”

JJ stepped back and looked from one Carter to the other. And suddenly I was aware that Marty and Kevin were behind me, listening. I just hoped we were all out of sight.

JJ said, “It's very likely that no one will be able to walk him right away, if he's as bad as you say. How did they get him into the shelter?”

Mrs. Carter had the whole story. “He'd been kept in this tiny, narrow area, where all he could do was walk back and forth. The owner had—God, it makes me shudder—he had a cattle prod he was using when he wanted Geronimo to move, if the dog didn't want to. The poor thing was stepping in his own stools, and he's got sores on his legs and the biggest scar is on one flank. When the animal control people came to take him away, they had to shoot him with a tranquilizer dart. Then they cleaned him up and treated his wounds, but since he came to at the shelter he hasn't let anyone near him. They have a special doorway, just big enough for food and water dishes; they can't go in. He charges all the time. They were hoping he'd calm down once they got him away from where he was, but he's been in the shelter two weeks with no sign of improvement. So they were going to put him down.”

“How old is he?”

“They're not sure. They think maybe three years?”

JJ's face was not radiating its usual optimism. “I don't know. I'm not sure this is a good idea. Much as I hate to say it, there are some dogs that can't be recovered because of how they've been treated. Because of what they've learned to do just to survive. They don't let go of their ferocity easily, because it's what's kept them alive.”

“But they'll kill him!”

JJ's voice was soft. “Mrs. Carter, there are so many dogs who need good people like you to care for them. I'd hate to see you get hurt, either by the dog or by your own feelings of guilt when you can't help him and he has to be killed after all. Why don't you find a different dog to love?”

She pursed her lips. Mr. Carter said, “Honey, I told you he might say this.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but Mrs. Carter wasn't done.

“JJ, we want to do this. And we're willing to pay for your help. Obviously we couldn't bring Geronimo in here, not like he is. But we want to pay for your consultation services and have you come to him. We want you to help us help him. Please. Please say you'll at least try. If it doesn't work, we won't blame you. We'll blame the people who did this to him. But we have to try!”

I could almost smell the wood burning, JJ was thinking so hard. What I was thinking was that the kid had recovered a goddamn pit bull that had killed its own brother. Why wouldn't he take this on?

Finally he offered an excuse. “Part of the problem is this is going to take some time. And it's August already. I'm leaving to go to college the last week of August. That wouldn't give us much time, and it might not be fair to Geronimo.”

“Is it fair to just kill him without even trying?”

JJ let out a breath and rubbed his forehead a second. “Tell you what. Let me go with you to the shelter to see him. Maybe I can assess how serious the case is.”

“Can you come now?”

“Now? I'm supposed to be working here.”

“Until when?”

“At least five. The shelter will close by then, won't it?”

Mrs. Carter thought for a minute and then said, “Where's Mr. Landon?”

“He doesn't work on Sundays. You could speak to Carol. I think she's in the office. But please don't make it sound like it was my idea to leave.”

“No. No, I won't. This is all on us. I'll be right back.”

In the end Carol called Dad, and he gave permission for JJ to go with the Carters. Not only that, but he went with them. Leaving me at the store. At least Marty and Kevin left without doing anything they shouldn't, other than making a mess I had to clean up.

Dinner that night was all talk about the Rottweiler. And all, of course, from Dad, since he was the only one of us who'd seen it.

“I tell you, that kid has some kind of magic in him. He asked us all to stand at a distance, and from where we were we could see the Rottie, who did not like having anyone come anywhere near him, I can tell you! Snarling, drooling, foam spraying when he barked. JJ started walking toward the cage, slow and easy, very steady. The dog literally threw himself against the chain links, but JJ just kept moving forward. He had a bag of dog treats in one hand, but he didn't show them to the dog right away. He walked right up to that fence, inches from where it bulged every time the dog landed on it. Finally the dog jumped up, holding on to the fence with his paws, and made as much noise as he could to frighten JJ. But the kid wasn't scared. He stood there not moving, just staring at the dog, until the dog finally dropped to the ground. It stood there glowering, but at least it stopped trying to break through the fence.

“That's when JJ threw a treat over the top. It landed beside the Rottie, who ignored it. JJ threw another. The Rottie finally turned away from JJ enough to investigate, and he snarfed those treats right up. JJ threw another, farther back in the pen, and the dog went to find it. And another. And another, until the dog was all the way back in his pen. The dog waited, like he wanted more, but JJ just stood there. So the dog moved forward, but it wasn't charging. When it got to the fence, JJ threw another treat over. He sent the dog all around the pen by where he threw the treats until they were all gone, and the last one was right near JJ. Then JJ just turned and walked away, leaving the dog there.

“Well, the dog was not happy about that. He started yelping and snarling and pacing back and forth.” Dad stopped long enough to eat something and take a drink. But he wasn't through.

“We all went into the shelter office to talk. JJ said that the Rottie was an extreme case and that he wasn't just charging out of fear. If that had been the case, when JJ walked up to the cage the dog would have kept barking but in higher tones, and it would have backed up and gotten a panicked look on his face. Geronimo didn't do that; he stayed right there, and he meant business. As JJ put it, his threats were not empty ones.

“But JJ was encouraged that the dog had allowed himself to be led around the pen, as it were, by JJ, throwing the treats, you know? So he would probably accept a leader at some point, if that leader were very strong-willed and had lots of patience. But he said it would take time and it would be dangerous. And he couldn't promise how far it would get before he had to leave.”

“Leave?” Mom asked. “Oh, that's right. College.”

“Cornell,” Dad said, and I thought he'd look at me to rub that in, but he didn't.

“So, what are they going to do?”

“They're going to get as far as they can. The shelter will anesthetize the dog and bring it to the Carters', but they can't do it until Wednesday. Nancy and Don have that fenced-in backyard where he can move around more, and they'll also put a chain from his collar to a stake in the ground at least temporarily. The only other thing in the yard will be a shelter that he can't get behind, so the chain doesn't get wrapped around anything. JJ will go see him on Thursday after he's recovered from the drugs, and then he'll go every day and stand there with one or both of the Carters until he thinks the dog will let him come in, and then I guess we'll see. I only wish I could watch this unfold. What an adventure! I tell you, that kid is destined for something great. He's goddamned amazing.”

“Andy, language! Please.”

“Sorry, Irene, but this is great stuff, and that kid…well, I just wish he weren't going away, that's all.”

I got a weird feeling. It reminded me of when Chris had signed up, and Mom had wanted to hang on to him and keep him home, and Dad had been so proud that he was going. I had understood both of them. With JJ, it was like I wanted him to leave. But at the same time, I didn't.

 

Thursday came, and although it seemed the Carters did get their dog delivered, JJ didn't go over when he'd expected to. Instead, the Carters showed up at the store. Or, Mr. Carter did. I positioned myself where I could hear what he told JJ.

“It's Nancy's mother. We've just heard she may not live through the night, so we have to go now. This afternoon. The dog is in the yard, JJ, and he's healthy enough, but at least as violent as he was. We have neighbors who'll take care of him while we're gone. That is, they'll throw food over, and fill his bowl from a hose from outside the fence. It's awful, and I hate to do this to him. If we'd known, we'd have left him in the shelter until we got back. But as it is…”

“So he won't see either of you for a few days at least?”

“Right.”

“I should go over, anyway, maybe after dinner, even though you won't be there and I can't work with you. But he should see something, someone familiar. I'll bring him the same treats I gave him before. I'll go over each day like that, after work here, so at least he gets used to me, even if he can't get used to you yet. Is that all right?”

“Yes, yes. Of course.”

“And please tell Mrs. Carter how sorry I am about her mother. I wouldn't say this to her, but I think I should tell you this may set us back a little. Not so much the few days you'll be gone, but if her mother dies, Mrs. Carter may not have the focus she needs, and she'll feel very vulnerable. The dog will sense that. We'll just have to see.”

Mr. Carter nodded, squeezed JJ's shoulder, and left. JJ went into the office, I guess to tell Dad how things stood. I went back to work, thinking,
You mean her adoptive mother
. I couldn't help wondering if my mom was right, and Mrs. Carter kept identifying with these hard-luck cases because she'd been one herself.

Just before closing, Marty and Kevin made an entrance at the door of the stockroom. At least they hadn't come in through the back. I'd just got back from walking Dante, and he wasn't yet tied up to his metal shelves. Marty stood in the doorway, ready to head for the proverbial hills if necessary. Kevin disappeared back into the store.

“So, Paul. My man. Just checking. What did you decide to do about your date dilemma?”

“I'm taking her out, Marty, but that's it. I'm not doing anything to tarnish her virtue. And if you don't like it, you can have your money back now.”

He sucked on his cheeks for a second. “And how will you pay for this pointless date? And with no car?”

“Oh, I'll have money. And wheels. I don't need you after all. Though”—I was feeling like I'd been a little harsh and wanted to soften it—“I do appreciate the loan. Do you want it back now?”

Marty shrugged. “A deal's a deal. You still owe me the extra five, but pay it back anytime between now and October.”

I finished tying Dante up, but he didn't take his eyes off of Marty.

“Hey,” Marty said, looking a little more relaxed now, “what happened with that Rottweiler? Did the Carters take it?”

“Yeah. It's quite the monster, by all accounts. Inside a fence
and
chained to a stake in the ground.”

“And is the Wunderkind taming it?”

“Not yet. The Carters had to go out of town for a few days. Something to do with her mother.” I edged Marty out of the room with me and shut the door. “Where's your partner in crime?”

“Scouting out the fag.”

“Marty, don't you guys do anything to him, do you hear me? Every time you show up here I get into shit, and it's all your fault.”

“Chill, Paul! Kevin's just hovering. Anyway, he never gets the brilliant ideas. It's always me.” He laughed. “In fact, I'm gettin' one now. Let's go find Dodge.”

It was the end of the day, and really there wasn't much more for me to do, and I wanted to know what the hell was up Marty's sleeve this time. We found Kevin leaning against the end of a display case. He was watching JJ clean out a hamster cage and, from what I could tell, trying his best to seem intimidating. Little did he know what types of bullies that kid could handle. Marty grinned and crooked his finger at Kevin to follow. We moved one aisle and several feet away, and Marty revealed his master plan.

“Okay, here's the picture. The Carters are away, right? And that monster dog is all alone, poor fellow. So I say we go and pay him a visit.”

I hated the sound of this. “Kaufman, what the hell are you thinking? That thing would eat you alive.”

“That's what everyone is saying. Let's see if they're right. Let's give the fellow a chance to show his stuff.”

“Marty, I've heard about his ‘stuff.' He's a killer. No joke. He's lots worse than Dante.” Visions of what Cain could do to a teenage prankster flew through my mind, and they were ugly. And from Dad's description of Geronimo, he was even worse.

Kevin started making chicken noises, and it pissed me off. I came close to pointing out that Marty was already afraid of Dante, and he was half tame. “Look you guys, this is serious stuff. I'll tell you what's gonna happen. Either one or both of you will get mauled or worse, or that dog's gonna have to be killed, or both.”

Other books

Sweet Is Revenge by Victoria Rose
Six Heirs by Pierre Grimbert
Lassiter 03 - False Dawn by Levine, Paul
The Invisible Library by Cogman, Genevieve
Reclaiming Angelica by Wynn, Zena
Shadows Linger by Cook, Glen
Also Known as Rowan Pohi by Ralph Fletcher